Sweet Somethings
by p0ck3tf0x
Summary: Most people, and nations, wanted to be seduced with dark, dirty words and promises but Prussia was not most men. He wanted whispered endearments and promises… And Canada.
1. For Prussia

_Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete_.

**Sweet Somethings**

Canada pressed Prussia into the pillows and trailed kisses over his chest. He sucked on his collarbone and licked the hollow of his throat. He sucked and bit and licked a path to his ear. Canada pinched his earlobe between his teeth and worried the earrings there.

He breathed softly against his ear.

"You're beautiful."

Prussia gasped and shivered in his arms. Canada smirked, a slow stretch of lips against his sweat drenched skin.

Most people, and nations, wanted to be seduced with dark, dirty words and promises. The dirtier; the better. Filthy. They wanted growling swears and blatant, unashamed admissions. Not-quite-secrets. They wanted to be used and abused, if only for an hour. They wanted to lose control of themselves for a little bit and trust their partner to take care of them.

But Prussia was not most men.

He had no use for dirty talk, for lewd behaviour, for vulgar propositions. Not here, not now. He had heard it all before. But love? Those whispered words of endearment and affection?

Those completely _unravelled_ him.

"You're gorgeous. Lovely. I adore you."

Prussia trembled beneath his fingertips, arching into his ministrations with a keening sigh. He chewed on his bottom lip, lost in sensation.

Canada sat back on his hips to smile down at him. Prussia was flushed and wanton as Canada worshipped him and he loved it. He just loved it. The trust, the faith, the unadulterated devotion in each gasp and sigh. Prussia was willing to give him everything and Canada was more than willing to take everything he had to give. He loved it.

He loved Prussia.

"You're perfect. Brilliant," Canada sighed and kissed each of his fluttering eyelids. His eyelashes tickled. "I love you, I love you, _I love you_."

Prussia wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled Canada down, flush against him. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach. It was surprisingly chaste; more of a hug than anything else. More of an embrace or caress.

They were cuddling, though he would never admit it outside of their bedroom.

Prussia had slept with a hundred men and women before him, but never like this. He had never snuggled, or spooned, or spent the night before, and now they were living together. Now they woke up in the same bed every morning, hopelessly entangled and hopelessly in love.

Prussia looked up at him, breathless and shameless and _wanting_. Canada kissed along his jaw.

"I love you, you're beautiful. You're the only person I want to fall asleep with; you're the only person I want to wake up next to. You're dangerous. Mysterious. I'm in love with you."

Prussia panted and curled his fingers into his hair. Canada sucked at his jaw, revelling in the taste of salt and stubble.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

Canada knew that he could spend every day of the rest of his life with Prussia. He was smitten. They had both slept with other humans and other nations but not like this. Never like this.

This was special.

"I will love you until the world stops spinning. I will love you after. I will love you forever."

Canada tenderly tucked a wayward strand of pale hair behind his ear.

"You're beautiful," he said again. Prussia laughed; a stuttering, hiccupping sound.

"No," Prussia whispered, "_you're_ beautiful."

Canada clutched at his shoulders and nuzzled the crook of his neck. He rocked against him.

"I want you. I need you."

"You_ have_ me. Always."

"Always," he agreed.

The rest of the world could have their 'sweet nothings' as long as Canada and Prussia could have this; these 'sweet somethings'. As long as they could have these wonderful, gentle moments together.

He loved him. And he always would.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_This is just a short vignette to celebrate Canada D'Eh. I think that while Prussia is turned on by sweet endearments in the bedroom, Canada would be the opposite. I think that Canada has been treated as a precious, delicate creature by everyone in his life; I think that he would like to be roughed up and manhandled from time to time. They would have a very varied sex life, in any case. (I would love to write his side. Maybe I will.)_

_I'll post something worthwhile later this week._


	2. For Canada

**Sweet Somethings**

Prussia pushed Canada down with one knee and a smirk. He pulled off his tie. His hands slipped over his chest, teasing his nipples through the fabric and settling on the line of buttons. Prussia fumbled with them for a moment before cutting to the chase and tearing his shirt open with a growl.

Canada laughed breathlessly as Prussia tugged his shirt over his head. It caught in his blonde curls and the buttons and thread tangled in the strands. His hair floated around him like a halo.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow," Canada complained. Prussia chuckled and nipped his earlobe.

"You like it, don't lie."

Canada snorted and smacked his chest.

"You're an asshole."

"Mmm," Prussia slammed him back down onto the carpet, "and you like it."

His hands wandered lower to grope the front of his jeans. Canada moaned and thrust into his grasp.

"Yesss…" He hissed.

Prussia unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans and underwear off in one motion. He licked his hipbones, one after the other, and swirled his tongue in the slope of his bellybutton before manhandling him onto his bare stomach and sitting across the back of his legs.

His hands roamed over his backside and pinched. Canada snarled.

"Oh," Prussia laughed, "and are you going to tell me you don't like _that_? Slut."

Canada bucked underneath him and Prussia leered, considering the expanse of sun kissed skin and delicate freckles and the sweet tan lines low on his hips. He dragged his fingernails over the dips and ridges; the valleys and mountains of his land. He pressed his hands into the flush of carpet burn spreading across his back, and now his stomach.

Prussia kissed up his spine. He marked him between his shoulder blades; in that one spot he would never be able to reach on his own. Canada was _his_; his, his, _his_.

And Prussia was possessive as hell.

He pulled his hair and pushed him down and left bruises in his wake. Canada keened. Prussia preferred to be gentle with Canada and decorate him with soft kisses but sometimes Canada wanted to be taken, suddenly and without mercy; to be used and abused and used again. He wanted someone to treat him like a man for once; like a predator who needed to be subdued. Canada wanted to kick and wrestle and draw blood.

Prussia pinned his wrists to the carpet and bit the back of his neck.

It was quick and ruthless and aggressive, and when they were done, Canada finally let Prussia pull him into safety of his arms. He kissed each bruise in unspoken apology. Prussia ran his hands over his raw, pink stomach and the mess there.

Canada leaned into him and twisted to kiss the edge of his jaw.

"Thank you," Canada panted, "for this. For everything."

Prussia grinned and tightened his grasp on the other nation.

"Always," he promised.

And it was true. Prussia would always give Canada whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, even if he himself wanted the opposite. Canada was the centre of his world and he deserved everything that Prussia could possibly give him.

Even this. _Especially_ this.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_I threatened to come back and write the other side of the story; I just didn't expect to do it so soon. But love is love is love and it was fun to explore the different ways of expressing it. Sometimes, it's more about your partner, and what they want, than what you're comfortable with. It's about giving a little and getting a lot. _

_But really, I think these two lead a very active sex life and that they have probably tried everything at least once..._

_**Please remember to leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome. You are free to leave an anonymous review; I do not mind. Please let me know what you think of this piece.**_


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